


Quiet Lives

by Tarlan



Series: The Dance [2]
Category: In A Shallow Grave (1988)
Genre: F/M, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-26
Updated: 2006-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garnet reflects on his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Lives

Garnet glanced up from the shady spot. He had been seated here some time beneath the leafy trees that stood near to the rusty iron gate that lead onto his property. It was the bang of the porch door that had caught his attention and he watched as, in the distance, Georgina settled onto the porch swing, their three-month-old baby snuggled contentedly in her arms. He smiled, wryly, still wondering how something -- how someone -- so beautiful could be created out of all this ugliness, but there was no doubt that the child was his. He could see himself in the green eyes that smiled back at him, in the tawny blond, babysoft hair, and in the shape of the tiny mouth. He imagined that there were other traits too but, in truth, it was too soon to tell.

And he could see much of Georgina in their son, too.

The child had filled the void between him and Georgina, giving them another reason to stay together beyond the desire to stay close to someone who had once known and loved Daventry.

Thoughts of the dark-haired younger man who had stepped into and out of his life so quickly overwhelmed Garnet. Until Daventry came into his life he had forgotten what it was like to be loved... forgotten enough to not realize that he was the true object of Daventry's desire until it was too late. Once he had had seen the truth, his own supposed love for Georgina Rance had seemed so shallow in comparison.

He shivered despite the high temperature of this late summer day, recalling the feel Daventry's arms around him as they took those small shuffling dance steps on the floor of the old hall. Outside the storm had been raging, and Garnet had seen a mirror of that storm in Daventry's eyes as Daventry held on to him tightly. He had proclaimed his love, so ardently, so passionately, filling Garnet with both fear and wonder as the sliver of glass was held against his throat.

"Never leave you 'cause we're one. One soul, two tormented halves."

And then he was gone... taken by the storm as quickly as he had arrived... lost to both of them, and yet Garnet could still feel his presence in the air around him. Sometimes he could hear the soft voice carried on the breeze, or feel a brush against his cheek so reminiscent of Daventry's gentle touch when he was sick.

How easy it was to recognize all the signs of Daventry's devotion now that his eyes had been opened. And how bittersweet the knowledge of a love found after it had been lost forever.

The sound of someone whistling came closer and Garnet found he was uncertain if he wanted to smile or scowl at this interruption to his revelry. He knew that whistle though, and he found his mood lightening as Quintus arrived at the old iron gate.

"What're you so happy about?" Garnet tried to scowl in intimidation but it didn't work--as ever--for a wide grin broke across the handsome dark features of his one true friend.

"Figured you might like to know I found your library card."

Garnet frowned. "Don't remember having one, let alone losing it."

"Where do you think I get all them books you like me to read to you then?"

The frown increased as Garnet realized he'd never really thought about it. Some how, he'd always assumed Quintus borrowed the books from neighbors, or off some long forgotten shelf in the house. It had never occurred to him that they might have a lending place in the town now, though why Quintus had to use a card with Garnet's name on it came as a surprise. He thought the town had started to outgrow its prejudices.

Georgina's voice drifted across and Garnet looked back to the house to see her standing alone at the edge of the porch, knowing she must have placed the baby into his crib.

"Come on. I'll give you a hand up."

There was a time when Garnet would have smacked away the hand that reached towards him but Daventry's legacy to him had been one of acceptance. He no longer raged inside at the unfairness of it all, no longer shunned the mirror in his bedroom where he slept alone for the most part. He accepted the hand beneath his elbow and stood up, brushing himself down before walking slowly up the path towards the house.

A fleeting glance had confirmed that Quintus had heard his soft words of gratitude but, for once, Quintus didn't try to embarrass him over it, merely grinning in acknowledgment.

They walked together though Quintus hung back about half a pace. That used to annoy Garnet until he realized that Quintus had stopped doing it out of misplaced subservience long ago. Instead, he had positioned himself to be exactly where Garnet would need him if he stumbled. Daventry had been the same, staying half a step behind, one hand raised in readiness just in case a stabilizing hand was needed. Of course, that had annoyed Garnet too though he'd give anything, now, to have Daventry beside him again.

"Garnet. I need you to watch over Potter while I bake those apple pies for Mrs. Gondess, else she'll have that troop of Girl Scouts marching in here to take over my kitchen."

Garnet found himself drifting over to look inside the crib at the small child they had named after the man they had both loved: Potter Daventry. He reached out with one scarred finger, tracing the pattern of the little appliqué duck sewn onto the tiny garment the child wore. He let his finger remain poised on that spot, feeling the slight pressure against the finger-pad as the small chest rose and fell in peaceful sleep. Long blond eyelashes dusted the rounded cheeks, fluttering occasionally, and Garnet wondered what a baby dreamed about.

Garnet sank onto the porch swing beside the crib containing his small son. His eyes narrowed when Quintus sat on the porch steps with his back leaning against the upright rail support, facing him.

"Haven't you got work to do?"

"Yes sir... and if you'd be quiet then I can get to it." He grinned to take the sting out of his words and reached into pocket, withdrawing a small book. He opened it to a marked place somewhere near the middle and began to read.

Garnet let his head drop back, a smile curling his lip as Quintus's voice droned softly onwards, slowly sinking into this lazy summer day. Tomorrow was the first anniversary of Daventry's death. His thoughts drifted away and though he knew he would never be able to forget Daventry, and what could have been between them, he knew his life now held some new meaning.

Daventry had called him beautiful, and had shown him that he was still a man worthy of love. He had seen beyond his outward appearance, forcing him to look upon himself and see that the scars covering his body were only skin deep. In his own way, Quintus had been telling him the same thing since his return from Guadalcanal, but it had taken the intensity of Daventry's passion, reflected in his stormy eyes, to make Garnet believe in them--and in himself.

He looked back up when he realized Quintus had stopped reading aloud and found Georgina staring at him from the porch door. Her flustered face had smudges of flour, her apron far more from baking in a hot kitchen on a hot summer's day. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, smearing some of the flour, and then smiled softly, as if she had been sharing his thoughts of Daventry.

He knew he didn't love her anymore, and that she did not love him, but they had found contentment with each other, bonded by Daventry and the child that slept close by. Tomorrow they would go to the churchyard to place flowers on Daventry's grave, in remembrance, and then they would return here to carry on with their quiet lives.

THE END


End file.
